


Making the Effort

by AZGirl



Series: Musketeers - Season 3 [2]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e02 The Hunger, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6650170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AZGirl/pseuds/AZGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when it seems like things might not have changed all that much, something happens to bring him back down to earth. Spoilers for 3.02 The Hunger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making the Effort

**Author's Note:**

> I have only seen episodes 1 and 2 so far, and realize that some of this could easily be AU.

**ooooooo**

 

“Do you need to hit so hard?” 

“How hard do you think they’re hitting out there?” 

~~~~~~~ _Aramis and Athos, 3.02 The Hunger_

 

ooooooo 

Sometimes, it feels as if he never left. 

The laughter. The sense of brotherhood and family. The desire to take away their physical hurts, while praying over their emotional ones. These thoughts and feelings are so utterly familiar that he forgets that they’ve been separated for more than four years. It feels like he’s home. 

Then, just when it seems like things might not have changed all that much, something happens to bring him back down to earth, crashing hard enough to leave him breathless. He is reminded that he’d been away – separated from his closest family. A look or a gesture between the others is all it takes and he’s reminded that they got along just fine without him while he was sequestered behind the walls of a monastery. 

Athos, d’Artagnan, and Porthos now have their own inside jokes, shared experiences, and a history together that he has had absolutely no part in. In a flash of understanding, he realizes now what d’Artagnan must have gone through back at the beginning of their acquaintance. 

A look here. A gesture there. All of it incomprehensible – unless you know the story behind it. And he’s had four long years apart from his friends. Four long years of his stories centering on the monastery and the children he was assigned to care for. 

They haven’t had much time to catch up on those years yet, if they ever will, but just from the brief look Athos and Porthos had shared as they trained, Aramis recognizes that he has missed more than he can ever learn about those years he was gone. Porthos, d’Artagnan, and Athos were fighting together, backing each other up, and protecting each other from the ravages of war, while he was safe in the monastery trying to reconcile God’s capacity for forgiveness with his many sins. They were fighting for France even as he continually struggled to give up worldly desires and habits. Perhaps that is why he could never stop the almost obsessive care of his beard. What did the Abbot say? _You tend your beard as one tends a rosebush_. 

He knows that his friends don’t do it on purpose, but he feels left out at times, not having any idea what they are talking about. He does realize that he is definitely out of sync with them. Porthos had said that they had learned to live without him, and he can see that in how they move together as one unit, in how they just seem to know what the others want or need at any given moment. He had once had that with them, and had given it up to keep his promise to God. Little did he know at the time that he was meant to be a Musketeer, but he now considers that he may have needed the time away to learn how to distance his heart from the Queen and the Dauphin. 

He wonders if he can ever regain equal footing with his three friends and brothers. They still want him on their team and seem to be genuinely happy of his return to the Musketeer fold, yet there are times when he can still feel their resentment towards him. He had admitted that his skills were rusty back at the monastery, but much of the muscle memory seems to still be there, if the past several days were any indication. 

This morning at the crack of dawn, Porthos had awakened him, saying that he needed to do some training to get skills back up to par. Porthos had snatched the bedclothes away and had commented that he could no longer laze around like he had at the monastery. Didn’t his friend realize that he had been used to waking up before the dawn, so that he could spend hours in prayer with the other monks? And that was before he fulfilled his other duties which eventually included caring for the war orphans. 

On this particular day, he had awakened by habit at the same time he usually had before leaving his life as a monk behind. He had already started his regular routine, when he realized that he was no longer bound by the monastery’s schedule. To a certain degree, his time was his own again, and he could go back to sleep for a while longer. 

It had felt like he had just laid his head down upon his pillow when Porthos had barged in to his room after only briefly knocking. Aramis had refrained from reminding Porthos that he had been a monk for four years and was used to waking very early in the morning. He knew that it would upset Porthos if he were to remind the man of their too-long separation. There was no need for such a reminder when they are still getting used to being in each other’s company again. 

The early wake up call, Porthos had explained, was so that they would have plenty of time to assess his skill level, though he hoped muscle memory would help make up some of the difference. Up until he had reunited with his brothers, Aramis had never once picked up a sword or pistol in those four years he was a monk. He had kept up with his stretches, which were done immediately after his morning prayers and before he woke up the children. The stretches had been another worldly habit he had been unable to break, for they had been a part of his daily routine for far too long for him to consciously stop doing them. 

In his mind, he was doing better than expected until his friends began to get a little too rough with him. When Athos had backhanded him, all he could think of in that brief moment was a piece of scripture – Matthew 5:39 – and teaching he had received on it. His tutor had taught him that to be backhanded like that was an affront to one’s personal dignity, an assault on their honor. And, in that moment, he had felt humiliated and _dis-_ honored; it had distracted him long enough for Porthos to get a hit to his abdomen. 

His first thought was that they were hitting hard, not because of how hard the enemy was hitting, but because they were still angry with him. Angry for him leaving _and_ angry for him coming back after so long. It left a bitter feeling within him, and he likely would’ve said something he would’ve regretted had Clairmont not interrupted them with news that d’Artagnan had been caught up in a riot. 

As they had quickly gathered their gear and made their way towards Saint Antoine, his mind started going through his friends’ every word and action towards him since they had reunited. He couldn’t pinpoint anything exactly wrong in their dealings thus far, but he recognized that they still had a ways to go before they could conceivably regain their old level of camaraderie. 

Four years was a long time – an eternity when in the midst of a war – but he was determined to make the effort. 

ooooooo 

_The end._

ooooooo

 

Story Notes:

 _“You tend… a rosebush_.” — This quote is paraphrased from episode 3.01 Spoils of War. The actual quote is “You tend your beard as another might a rosebush.” 

“But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” — _Matthew 5:39 (ESV)_.  More than one commentary on this passage remarks on the idea that this verse is talking about it being a backhanded blow when the other cheek is turned.

 

**ooooooo**

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Celticgal1041 for the beta; all remaining errors are my fault. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
